


Happy Anniversary

by Indiprincess



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Anniversary, Cooking, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Handcuffs, Heavy Petting, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Makeup Sex, Nipple Licking, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 10:55:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5203196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indiprincess/pseuds/Indiprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a quick one-shot.  Not part of my series, just some inspiration from last episode, but if you wish, you can always imagine it's them in the future :)  Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Anniversary

Sonny pauses at the door to the apartment you share before letting himself in. He knows you are going to be mad. He's late, it's your anniversary. He listens at the door for a moment and it sounds like someone chopping down a tree in there. Great, he thinks. She's in a mood. Of course. Not that he could blame her. He decides to get it over with and unlocks the door and heads in.

You don't even turn around to look at him. You just keep chopping the vegetables and tossing them in a bowl to put in the crock pot tomorrow with a roast. 

"Hey babe..." He says from the doorway of the studio you two share.

"Hello Dominic."

Shit. Using his first name is no good. He sees the tiny dining room table, so small with their two chairs, two candles melted down to the holder and what was surely a new bottle of wine now half empty. He sees a wadded up fabric on the couch. He assumes it's a dress you had on earlier, which had long since been cast aside in favor of the Victoria's Secret pink sweatpants and T-shirt you have on now. Earrings, necklace, bracelet, and heels on the coffee table next to what looks like a watch box with a little bow on it and a card. He sees only one plate at the table, the roasted chicken and vegetables untouched and he knows instantly it's yours. He can't help but smirk to himself at you being a bit dramatic, leaving your food untouched and out and his put away, but he doesn't indulge that thought too long. He knows you are hurt.

"Happy anniversary." You say to him, still chopping angrily and furiously.

"Happy anniversary." He says quietly, making no move closer to the kitchen area. "Hey, I'm sorry I'm late..." He begins but you don't let him finish.

"Oh no worries." You say with fake brightness. "You know, Ben Franklin invented this thing called the telephone recently that people have been known to use when they are going to be late or not showing up at all..." You were getting prepared to build up steam but he cuts you off.

"Actually, Thomas Edison invented the phone." He tells you.

"Actually it was Alexander Graham Bell." You say with another furious chop. Angry with him being late and now cutting you off.

"Actually it was Antonio Meucci."

"Well isn't it just like you Italians to stick together in this century old 'who invented the phone' debate."

"Are we really arguing about who invented the phone?" He asks and you can hear the smile in his voice and it makes you smile too and you chop slightly less angrily.

"No." He hears your smile and then a rush of anger. "But you should have called." Back still to him.

"I should have. I was undercover with the new sergeant. I thought I'd make it back in time but Dodds wanted to do some more checks to make it look real. I was ready to go, but he's the captain's son and my superior. And I couldn't just whip out my phone and call you in the middle of a checkpoint. Plus I didn't wanna be on the phone in front of my boss on a job, and I thought you would be so mad by this point you wouldn't even answer me anyway."

You jam the tip of your knife into the cutting board and place both hands on the counter and let your head drop. "Understood." You tell him, sounding colder than you want to, and you change your tone so he understands. "I just.." you exhale hard. "I just worry about you all the time. And I knew you knew today was our six month anniversary and that I kinda thought it was a big deal so I went from being pissed at you when you were an hour late to terrified when you were two hours late and then grateful to God, relieved, and furious when you roll in here three hours late."

"I know sweetheart, I know. And it's not 'was' our anniversary, it still is. And it is a big deal to me too." He finally steps one step closer into the room.

"You want your plate or did you eat already." You say flatly as he swears he can see you physically relax, settling down now that he's here and he's okay.

"I could eat. I didn't eat." He says tentatively, grateful for the peace seeping back in between you two.

Your back still to him you to go the oven and open it up and grab his plate that you put in there to warm. "Shit!" You shout and it shatters to the floor as you grab the wrist of your burnt hand in pain. "That was stupid."

Sonny is next to you in two steps, the roses, card and gift he bought you dropped to the floor as he gets the cold water turned on, your hand shoved underneath it. He examines your hand while your eyes examine him. "It doesn't look bad babe, I think it's gonna be okay. Did it just startle you more than anything?" He waits a long time for your answer and when you don't he looks up from the long pink stripe on your palm and he watches your eyes drink him in. Your head doesn't move but your eyes travel his length head to toe over and over and over. He can't read what is in your eyes and they just keep rolling over him in waves. "Babe, you okay? Do you wanna go to the doctor?" Those eyes keep traveling him. "Sweetheart, you all right?" He takes his free hand and rubs the back of his knuckles on your cheek to snap you out of whatever trance you are in. "Sweetheart. Are you okay?" He tries again and you finally let your eyes stop on his face.

"Sonny?" 

"Yes babe, do you need to go to the doctor?"

"What are you wearing?" Your voice is slow and thick. He smiles to himself. He knows that tone. He lets the lightest kiss land on the pink mark of your palm.

"This ol' thing?" He says, smiling gamely. You nod. You free your hand from his so you can slip them inside the heavy black winter jacket he's wearing that you haven't seen before. "Dodds and I were undercover as patrol officers tonight babe. Sobriety checkpoint so we could get DNA off a Breathalyzer." Sonny explains, not sure you are listening as your eyes move back to devouring him. Your hands start moving over the front of his shirt, mapping the elaborate seams and ridges and pocket flaps. His stance changes into that dropped hip kicked out bent leg thing he does, feeling suddenly emboldened by being the object of such blatant covetous need. 

You slip the jacket off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Your hand goes for the utility belt around his waist and he takes over that part, wanting to be cautious with the gun and holster attached. Your hand takes advantage of that kicked out leg to slip between his thighs and cup him, your palm running over him slowly and rhythmically. Your touch starting off light and then going firmer with each stroke and as you feel his body react to your touch under your hand.

You drop to your knees in front of him, hand still slipping over him, and his hands going to your hair. You move your hand and kiss and lick at the hardness beneath the fabric of his pants. You feel his hands tighten in your hair painfully, yet it feels so good, and the low moan coming from his throat spurs you on. You stand up and put your arms around his neck. "Let's go to bed." You whisper on his lips. His mouth seizing on yours is his answer. He's walking you to the bed, you unbuttoning his shirt as you go, him tugging up your t-shirt to free your bare breasts. His mouth enclosing on the hard peak of the soft warm skin he finds underneath. Your gasp of pleasure sets his mouth to work harder. You pull him from you.

"Sonny..." You say breathlessly.

"Yeah." He says as his head moves back towards your breast, and you stop him.

"Get your cuffs." You say, your mouth red and full from the friction of his pants and his mouth. He straightens up and looks serious for a moment.

"Sweetheart. I love you so much, and want to do anything with you. But babe, I gotta say, I'm not really comfortable with cuffing you sweetheart. The job, I guess." He says nobly, and then blushes.

You smile at him and get on your tiptoes and kiss from his ear, down his neck and you flick and suck that bobbing Adam's apple of his. You kiss that patch of chest hair in from his collar and look up into his eyes, heavy lidded and hungry for you. Your fingertip traces his lip and you say huskily, "I didn't say they were for me."

He blinks a million times over for a long moment as your words sink in, and he tosses you on the bed, you lie on your back, and raise yourself to your elbows, laughing as he tugs your sweatpants off and runs back to his utility belt to get the cuffs. You snort with laughter at his frantic pace as he kicks off a shoe and pulls off his shirt and tries to take his pants off all at the same time, hopping back on one foot to you at the bed while trying to free his leg from his pants with one shoe still on. 

"Hey Sonny?" You call, still on your elbows, bare body displayed for him, you smirk and your voice is full of playful swagger.

"Yeah?" He stills himself, cuffs in his mouth, bouncing on one foot pants halfway off, looking for all the world like a stripper with an erection.

"You can leave your hat on."


End file.
